


quicksilver

by buttercuppoisoning



Category: Rockman | Mega Man Classic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, super fighting rollbot, the virus come out- does zero is built?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9162046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercuppoisoning/pseuds/buttercuppoisoning
Summary: quick·sil·verdescribes something that moves or changes very quickly, or that is difficult to hold or contain."his mood changed like quicksilver"for one girl to succeed, the bones of ten thousand soldiers lay dying.





	1. alarm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally written on 1/2/17, rewritten on 3/13/18. im so sorry if you read the old version it was bad. i plan on updating every chapter

 “Huh?"

    It was a lazy Saturday in Light Labs, morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, along with the skylight above. Looking upwards, Roll couldn’t help but smile as she worked, mopping to some invisible groove- clearly, she was in a good mood. Though everything being so clean was nearly blinding, it filled her with a sense of pride, letting out a little huff as she put her hands on her hips. When she had noticed oil stuck between the grooves in the floor tiles, she had decided it was finally time to clean up the place, and kicked her brother and father out of the house so she could work in peace. Finally, she was done. Finally, she could relax. At least, until those boys created another mess. Taking off her gloves, Roll sat down on the couch, letting out a sigh of relief- Until she could see the communicators on Rock’s abandoned helmet glow with an incoming message, an uncomfortable cherry red. Picking it up, she couldn’t help but scrub it ever so slightly with her hands, buffing away a spot of dirt. Yet, the light didn’t go away.

Roll had only wanted him out of the house for a bit. She never expected him to get a message. And if it was coming through his helmet instead of his internal communicator, it must be serious. If it was a simple message of ‘nice to see you,’ or ‘what’s up,’ or something of the like, it would be through his communicator- better yet, through his E-Mail. Not like this. Not with the lights flashing so urgently.

    Someone desperately needed to talk to Rock, and he wasn’t there to receive it. And it was Roll’s fault.  _ No, it’s not the time to feel guilty, Roll! Don’t victimize yourself!  _ Knocking a fist against her head gently, she shook her head, evacuating her thoughts of any semblance of self-pity. Ther were more important things to worry about in the current situation, and by Asimov she was going to figure this out before something went really wrong and she was too late.

    Placing the helmet on her head, she quickly adjusted it to her receiver frequency, standing up and walking over to the phone, just in case she needed to call Dr. Light or Rock. Probably so. She might as well have just called them before, but it would take longer for them to get home than for her to answer and see what was the matter.

    At first, the only thing audible was overwhelming static blasting through the earpiece, loud enough to make her lift it away from her head with a wince to avoid popping an eardrum. Eventually, though, it died down, perhaps a result of location- the signal was weak, faint, and Roll chewed on her lip, free hand inching a little bit closer to the phone. She  _ really _ didn’t like anything about this situation.

Listening a little closer, she adjusted the volume higher to compensate for the way the feed was cutting in and out. Quickly, someone cursing loudly came to rise over the din and noise, something very familiar to her. Hearing that he was just the same as usual almost made her sigh in relief, but the fact that it was coming over plasma blasts and loud metallic clangs did nothing to soothe her anxiety, much less cure it.

    “Blues? That’s you, right? What’s wrong?” Roll asked, each question coming out faster than the other, concern clear in her voice. She fidgeted in place waiting for a response, hearing a loud, cackling laugh in the background- never a good sign. Already, she knows in her heart that Wily is up to something again, and she leans her back against the wall despondently. Really, they had just settled down... Hearing her brother hiss in pain quickly shocked her out of her stupor, and she began to call his name with a new urgency.

    “Ah, Roll? Can’t say I expected that!” He laughs, just the same as usual- however, it lacks the warmth and depth she expects from it, something from his true and genuine laughs. Instead, it reminds her more closely of his laughter back when he was Breakman. Cold, hostile, with a hint of anxiety. “How are you doing?”

“Blues, this isn’t the time! What’s wrong?” Hearing metal against a surface made her jump, along with a pained grunt- oh no,  _ no no! _ Already, she was beginning to fidget more rapidly. Instead of metal or concrete, the surface he hit sounds more like grass, something that explained the poor quality of the feed- probably a forest or something of the like was blocking good satellite access. He audibly heaved, hopefully back to his feet, but Roll could only anxiously for him to begin speaking again, holding back her many questions about his safety and health. Oil stains on the floor were the least of her concerns at this point.

    “This is important, okay, Sis?” If Rock isn’t home, make sure to pass this onto him. She nods, despite the fact that he can’t see her, anxiety allowing her to do something so silly.  _ Oh, but it hardly mattered! _ Not when her brother might be  _ dying _ or something.

    “There’s a-” Blues fires his buster once, twice- “new Wilybot around. At least, seems like it.” then the sounds of fighting become indistinguishable from one another. He raises his noise above the chaos so she’s able to hear him, but it’s still painfully loud. Did Rock have to deal with this every time he fought?

    “I’d say he’s a Robot Master, but he seems way more advanced!” Blues shouts, anger and desperation surfacing in his voice. “This guy is no Robot Master! But that’s really not the point. To put it simply, he’s powerful, and I’m not sure I can beat him on my own. This guy’s a  _ monster. _ I can’t take this thing on!”

    With that, Blues abruptly ended the transmission, static filling Roll’s ears.

Needless to say, Roll’s hand shot to the phone faster than it ever had before, tossing Rock’s helmet aside recklessly. Cleaning could wait. For now, he just had to make sure that her brother was safe, above all.


	2. warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rock gets a pep talk.

Rock was sitting nervously, helmet tucked underneath his arm, while Dr. Light sat at his computer and Roll tooled with the inner workings of Rock’s free arm, the removed plate of metal that allowed her to see inside set on the rolling supply cart beside her. 

“We’ve traced the signal,” the roboticist says, voice weary, and Rock immediately jerks up, leading Roll to almost snap a bundle of wire and tiny disc of metal. She starts to scold him, but shuts her mouth at the sheer worry and determination making itself apparent on her brother’s face. When she told Dr. Light about the transmission, Rock had immediately ported himself nearly right behind Roll and grabbed her shoulders, demanding to know if Roll had been told where exactly Blues was. She shook her head no, and her brother had started crying, wrapping her in a tight hug. The only thing she could think to do was assure him that Blues had a great sense of self-preservation. He’d figure things out, and find a place to hide.

Roll gently tugs on Rock’s arm and glares at him when he looks down at her questioningly, leading him to plop back down in his seat, bouncing his leg nervously.  
“Now, Rock, we are dealing with a threat we know little to nothing about,” Dr. Light begins as Roll murmurs to herself under her breath. She reaches for a screwdriver on the cart and slips the tiny tip into the mess of wiring keeping Rock’s buster functioning.  
“You must be very careful. Retrieve Proto Man, and bring him back here as fast as you can. Please, please, please do not fight unless you have to. I don’t want you getting hurt. You heard your sister- Proto Man said that you can’t fight this new Robot Master alone.”

Roll takes the screwdriver out and replaces a chip with another, one eye closed to make sure she placed it in the tiny magnetically secured slot. With that, she reaches to take the plate off the cart and slide it back into place, screwing it in with care.  
“Just a new /something/,” she corrects. “You’ve seen Blues. He’s too stubborn to call for help. This thing must be really advanced and powerful.”  
Dr. Light simply nods and looks back to his screen. With a few more quick bouts of typing, he rolls his chair backward, and finally stands, walking over to run a hand through his children’s hair.  
“Remember, Rock. Your one and only goal is to get your brother home.” His voice is stern and firm, staring down Rock. He and Roll both knew that it was a habit of the bomber’s to overshoot his ambitions, often landing himself in danger or getting himself hurt. Sure, he had noble intents, but really, Roll and her father just wanted him to get home safe.

“Of course, Dad,” he eventually says after sighing, plonking his helmet into his lap and rubbing his thumb over the smooth blue metal. Roll can see his hands tremble slightly, and her expression turns to concern. She couldn’t even imagine what would happen if Blues was broken beyond repair by the time they arrived.

“No time to waste,” she piped in. Normally, Roll wasn’t this pushy, but she was just as worried about both Blues and this new threat as Dr. Light and Rock were. Two sets of eyes turn to her, and Rock nods, blue optics closing.  
“Dad? The coordinates?” Dr. Light wordlessly reaches a hand out, and Rock hands the helmet in his lap to him. Dr Light reaches in, tooling with the inner functions.

“I’m going to program in the coordinates, so you can go there and back easily,” he begins, handing the helmet back to its owner. “Please, please, please be careful. I’m begging you. I don’t want to lose you or your brother.”  
Rock nods, and takes a deep breath. Roll offers an encouraging smile, and nods.

He closes his eyes, exhales, and warps away in a flash of blue light.


	3. crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rock finds his brother. a robot contemplates things about himself.

The forest, at the very least, is an appealing sight.  
At least, until, he’s startled out of his brief wonder by a thick, oily handprint pasted onto tree bark. The robot lets out a very un-brave _squeak,_ hands forming into fists. His right is enveloped by a buster materializing in a flurry of cyan pixels. Looking further into the flora, his optics focus on more pasted prints, accompanied by slowly increasing amounts of scattered drops.  
Rock immediately follows the path of the marks, occasionally cringing as his arm brushes a dark-painted leaf or he notices a split root that definitely has a line of chipped red paint laying on it. He hurries more and more, and hesitantly calls out his brother’s name. Much to his horror, he doesn’t receive a response. The Robot Master bites his lower lip, increasing his pace. As scared as he was that he hadn’t found Blues yet, at least he hadn’t found his supposed attacker either. To tell the truth, Rock was _scared._ He didn’t like to admit the fact often, not when the world’s safety often hinged on him, but Blues had always seemed so _unbreakable._ Cool and suave and smart and independent more than anything else, and now he was calling for help from _him?_

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. He hoped whatever new creation that tried to fight his brother would just burn out and he could put it out of commission while it was resting. Or bring it back to the lab and see if his dad could help it. But his hopes aren’t high. Right now, the best he could want and have a chance of getting is simply finding Blues in one piece and leaving without any conflict.

And of course, his dreams are immediately crushed when he hears the crunch of fallen grass and twigs below, presumably, a metal boot. He glances behind him, already filled with panic, and sapphire optics travel up to meet shining red that soon flicker into purple, then cyan, then black, and back again. He could tell just from looking at the other that this robot was unstable- presumably unfinished. His ‘armor’ was simple planes of metal currently attached to his hands, shoulders, chest, and hips- likely supports for better armor.  
But maybe it was time to stop gawking over the unsophisticated design and maybe think about the oil drenching said supports.

Rock’s eyes widen, and before he knows it, he hears the click of a buster coming into place and he habitually dives into one of the clusters of bushes, wincing as the shot sweeps right over him. The Robot Master scrambles to his feet and turns to run, continuing in the direction he was looking for. He _had_ to find Blues. Rock loathed the idea of leaving without him- like betrayal. He couldn’t let his cowardice get in the way of his own brother’s safety. He narrowly avoids shot after shot, almost shocked at how much more powerful they were than his own. But this wasn’t the time to worry about that, his thoughts were consumed with finding-

“Blues!”  
He claps his hands over his mouth, skidding to a stop at the sight, frozen, unable to keep worrying about the robot chasing him when he can hear his boots squelching through puddles of oil. Blues is still trying to push himself up, but it’s bound to be hard when one of his knee joints is spitting sparks. A jagged hole is ripped in his stomach, a couple of wires spilling out, but mostly intact. Tooth marks rake the previously smooth metal of his buster, as well as the glove resting over his injury. His buster arm props his shield up as he shudders, trying again and again to pull himself to his feet.  
He can hear the crash of metal behind him and he instinctively leaps forward, ducking and rolling his way right behind Blues as the other robot aims another buster shot in Rock’s direction.

“Come on!” The bomber said, hurriedly reaching forward to wrap his arms around Blues’ torso and heave him upwards. The prototype still clings to his shield and winces in pain. He opens his mouth to speak, but claps his free hand over it when it only spits oil, the crackling of sparks audible in his throat. Rock gasps before hurriedly scooping Blues’ legs up as well, lifting him in a bridal carry and simply starts to run. Yes, he can and will warp home, but there was always that fraction of a delay when he did. He didn’t want to risk anything. Easily hopping to and fro, he picks the coordinates for the lab, and warps away.

Moments later, the other robot reaches for the blue beam of light, but of course, cannot grasp it.

“...VAR:LIGHT_BOT_PRESENCE=TERMINATE_LIGHT_BOT.EXE”  
“VAR:FUNCTION_FAIL.=RECALCULATE_TERMINAL.”  
“ > RUNNING:RECOGNITION_SIGNATURE.EXE.”

He takes a couple minutes standing there, just letting his mind process the attack. There was a voice screaming at him through his earpiece, but he wasn’t obligated to obey.  
He didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to. He was free, at least for the most part. And right now, what he wanted to do was let his programming take its course.  
One of the signatures simply registered as “DLN_000_PROTOTYPE_1_N:BRKMN_BL,” which was rather confusing to him. It wasn’t a proper name at all, and wasn’t near as simple as “SWN_001_BASS,” or “DLN_001_MEGA_MAN.” It was closer to his own signature, one he recognized easily. 

 

“PRJ_∞_PATIENT.ZERO,” he murmurs into the sky.


	4. return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blues gets repaired.

The lab is already a mess, and as much as she understands, she hates it.  
With a wrench stuffed in her mouth and a toolbox tucked under her arm, she kicks the trash can beneath her father’s computer table and nudges a pile of takeout boxes into it with her elbow, jogging away shortly after to stack the scattered aged blueprints and robotics books neatly, clearing them off the floor. Ponytail whipping as she moves, Roll clears up as much of the mess as she can, passing various tools and items to Rock and Dr. Light as she crosses the doorway of the room Blues was laid in again and again, occasionally jumping in to help. Yes, Dr. Light was the one who taught her all of it, but she was arguably almost as proficient as him when it came to Robotics. She had been his assistant for years, after all, and being a robot herself, she had a good understanding of android biology.

“Is his core stable?” She asks as she enters the room, nervously eyeing Blues’ opened chest panel, question slightly muffled by the tool in her mouth. Rock makes an unsure noise, and Dr. Light’s brows furrow as he focuses on the casing.

“It’s...awfully lucky that it is at the moment. If that shot had landed just one inch higher, his core...”  
The roboticist didn’t finish his sentence, but both Robot Masters in the room knew what the end was. Roll takes a deep breath and forces a smile on her face, taking the wrench out and slipping it inside the toolbox as she instead reaches for a sandwich bag full of screws.

“So! We got lucky! That’s good!” She begins, holding the bag with one hand and digging around for a screwdriver and pliers with the other. Withdrawing them and switching the tools to her other hand with a bit of quick fumbling, the housemaid sets the toolbox down on the nearest flat surface and beelines for the shattered and severed knee joint that she had taken it upon herself to fix.  
Of course, given the damage, Roll had to completely separate the lower leg from his thigh to replace the joint itself, but now all she had to do was actually insert it neatly. After fixing the torn wires of course.  
Taking a deep breath, she reaches into the mess of tangles below Blues’ bodysuit and synthskin with her pliers, straightening out clusters of wires and slowly, carefully, reconnecting the torn wires. “We have to count our blessings in a situation like this.”

“Right!” Rock nods and smiles, reaching over the table to high five her. Once he retracts his arm and settles back to the ground, he immediately goes back to work, and so does Roll.  
She comes in and out a few more times to clean, gather supplies, and work. Rush is a good trusty assistant in a situation like this- she didn’t really have time to constantly run back and forth, especially when she was occupied with keeping the floor clean enough to walk on without tripping on screws scattered across the tile. Replacing the prototype’s joint thankfully goes easily enough, considering Roll was expecting it to be an ordeal thanks to Blues’ aging body and parts.  
Really, what was more of an ordeal was actually getting him to let them repair him in the first place.

Sure, it was easy enough for Rock to rush him home and into the lab, but the second he saw Dr. Light, Blues was silently screaming and yelling, anger marring his young features, putting up so much resistance and constantly scrambling his way away from Rock and Roll, trying to shoot and kicking and biting until he had to be forcefully shut down so they could actually work on him without him resisting the whole time. Both knew he wouldn’t be happy when he came back online, but it was their only option, and they wouldn’t let a grudge get in the way of him actually living.

Now that that issue was over with, the only thing left to do was finish his repairs, and attend to whatever attacked him.


	5. thought

He’s hooked to the wall, cords upon cords leading from his core to various energy blocks.

And his movement calibration has been shut down.

 

They only put him back online to check if his knee was working and if there was any lasting pain or discomfort that could hint at more repairs needed. But by the time all of his processes began to run, he recognized where he was and what had happened and wow his body was definitely working well, judging by the way he leaped off the repair table and tackled Rock to the ground, then aimed his buster arm at Dr. Light. Only to realize that he couldn’t even summon his buster. And his shield and shades were gone.

And then he just started crying and Roll had to pull him off of his brother and take advantage of this weak moment to put all his processes offline except for audio intake and output, and his essential sensory registering systems. Now all he could do was ignore their questions with bitterness and sarcasm and cast withering glares at his father and brother through the corner of his eye. After an hour of frustration at his non-responsiveness, they all collectively decide to simply finish his repairs and leave him alone. The original intent was to let Blues leave, but seeing the damage, Roll knew that it was too great for him to be out on adventures of his own just yet. Especially with that... _thing_  still lurking around.

 

Roll hadn’t seen it herself, but just the way Rock described it gave her shivers. Like a..a beast, a cryptid. Some kind of monster spread among anti-robot circles and told to young children to scare them off the idea of human-robot harmony, not a real robot that someone had constructed.  
Ah, speaking of young children and anti-robot circles. _Humans._  Rock had gotten himself and Blues out of danger, but what of everyone in the city? Someone who heard a loud noise and went to investigate? What would happen to them? Young innocent children who saw the robot and got curious. What were they supposed to do except die?

 

The occasional death was part of saving the world, but not usually of _humans._  Roll’s stomach twists at the thought and she pulls her legs up onto the shiny couch to wrap an arm around them in an attempt to comfort herself. Rock had left the room briefly to try and get a word out of Blues, a decision both she and her father had vetoed, but Rock looked so sad and scared that Dr. Light decided to let him do it and Roll didn’t have the heart to tell him he’d fail. None of them had managed to get the oldest Lightbot to say anything thus far, and as much as she loved her brother, she doubted his solo attempt would be much different.

And she was right, hearing the frustrated yells in a voice that was _definitely_ Blues. She didn’t catch any of what he said, but in no way did he sound happy. Roll brings a hand up to run fingers through golden locks, letting one leg slide off the couch with a quiet clack as it collided with the tile on the ground. Rock returns to the room with a dramatic sigh and sits next to her, dropping his head onto her shoulder in a wordless prompt for comfort. She reaches around to hug him close, sighing  
“I just don’t get it,” Rock begins. His voice is strained, the kind of raspiness added when you’re trying not to cry, and Roll nods in sympathy before Rock starts speaking again. “He’s our brother, and Dad’s son, and we saved him, so why is he always so upset? Why does he hate me so much?”

 

Roll doesn’t have an answer.


	6. rivalry

Blues was out of commission and still had information they needed that they couldn’t make him spill. Rock was upset, Dr. Light was still working, and Roll was both exhausted and caught at an emotional crossroad. That thing was still out there somewhere, maybe hurting other robots, maybe hurting humans, and they had made no move to look for him so far. It made her uneasy- what if someone got hurt? What if he came back to find them and attack her brother again? They’d have to go look for him eventually, and when they did, what if someone got hurt again?  
She sighs softly, twisting a piece of hair around her finger as she steps outside to enjoy the sun slowly sinking below the horizon. The natural smell and breeze is a relief from the chaos and stench of oil and burnt metal plaguing the lab. Roll simply enjoys the momentary peace and relaxing weather, leaning against the wall. Everything would be okay, she was sure of it. It always turned out okay.

* * *

 

“Mother _fucker!_ ”

Forte yelps as he’s knocked onto his back, rolling and rolling and rolling until he hits a tree and pulls himself to his feet by bracing himself on the trunk. Stupid _free thought robot_ and his stupid _enhanced buster_ and stupid stupid _stupid design!_ “’Forte, go capture Patient Zero! He’s out of control,’” he mumbled in a lazy imitation of Dr. WIly. “Well, it’s not that easy, pops!” His buster arm whips up with the final yell and he fires recklessly at his target, Patient Zero easily sliding out of the way with a bemused expression on his face. His curiosity at the sight of new robots like Rock and Blues was a far cry from the casual attitude he held with Forte, the “brother” that had been taking him on short test runs ever since his frame was complete.

Patient Zero beckons with his hand, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. He doesn’t say anything, but Forte knows the gesture is a challenge. Scarlet optics narrow and he begins to charge his buster, thinking again about how he could make this situation easier to deal with. He didn’t really want to deal with it at all- couldn’t the old coot control his robots on his own? Still, the fact of the matter was that capturing Patient Zero was an order, and therefore a mission he couldn’t defy. All Forte wanted was to make this easier and quicker for himself- _preferably without dying,_ he thought, eyeing the slow-drying oil covering the other robot. Just who had he decided to attack in his free time before Forte had managed to catch up? Whoever they were, that wasn't Forte's problem. He was still the strongest robot and he was going to keep that title.

A slide, a kick, and Forte propels himself towards the other, prepared to twist and turn to avoid the path of buster shots. He blinks when he realizes that none are coming, but it’s too late to stop his movement, and he crashes right into Patient Zero. Forte jolts to fire a buster shot into the other’s stomach or chest to subdue him for the time being, but his attempt is cut off when the robot grabs his already somewhat damaged arm and tosses him, far away. He skids through the grass with a frustrated cry of pain, fumbling for a handhold on the ground to stop himself from hitting something. His artificial spine still hurt like hell from colliding with the tree from earlier.

 

“What the fuck is your problem?! Just stop resisting, dick!” Forte growled, anger visible. He pulls himself to his feet again, growing even more infuriated at the other’s lack of response. He was so advanced that Forte just didn’t understand how he hadn’t picked up speech already. Maybe he had and Patient Zero was just pretending he hadn’t to be a dick. Forte wouldn’t be surprised.  
Fine. If he wasn’t going to make this a fair fight, Forte wouldn’t either. One of his hands slips behind his back and a bracelet with a blinking red light materializes out of his storage- a teleportation harness, something he knew well from seeing them used in various kidnapping jobs. He spreads his arms out, burying the light in the palm of his hand so it’s not as visible, especially to Patient Zero’s half-developed optics. Forte’s own optics narrow.

 

“Come at me.”

Patient Zero only smiles and dashes at Forte with dizzying speed, becoming a golden-black blur in the air as he pins his brother to the ground. With this opportunity, Forte quickly seized one of Patient Zero’s wrists, yanking it into the air and snapping the harness on. Patient Zero yelped in disdain and attempted to pull it off, but Forte was already sending the signal to the harness, coordinates and information causing the light to stop blinking. He grins up at Patient Zero’s newbuilt face contorted in anger and the harness sends him straight where he wanted him- back in his tightly secured training room in Wily’s base.


	7. news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rock and blues have a talk. they receive an unexpected visitor.

“Just let me leave! I’ll take care of it myself!”  
“No you can’t! You said it yourself, remember?”

Blues and Rock were currently having a very animated argument, though it was definitely more of a one-sided yelling match, since Rock was trying to keep his voice soft and Blues was making no attempt to control his anger. It was expected, and no one blamed him for it- years as Break Man, then years alone hadn’t exactly done numbers for his already naturally withdrawn personality. He was upset, and he was scared. That’s how Rock was trying to justify it, at least.  
It still hurt to have your brother yell at you like that. A lot.

Blues’ upper body movement had been reactivated at his pleading request, but he was still bed-bound, lower body limp. As much as Roll and Dr. Light hated to do it, they weren’t sure if the damage was completely repaired, and they needed to run a scan on his systems. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he decided to run off. Blues didn’t even seem to notice through his constant impatience and quickly mounting frustration at his family continuing to ask him questions.

“I’m not going to tell you anything until you let me leave!” he growled, palms winding into fists.

“We can’t let you leave, Blues! You’ll get hurt!” Rock clasped his palms in a manner similar to one of Roll’s nervous tics- he supposed he might’ve picked it up from her. At this point, he was desperate. They needed Blues to tell them all they could about the not-robot that had attacked them and the weapons he used, since that could help them defeat him. As much as Rock loathed the thought of fighting /again,/ it was his duty to protect people, and that he’d do.

He reached out to touch his brother, but soon withdrew his hand. Rock knew that physical contact would only make matters worse. So he simply folded his hands in front of him, a sad-puppy look on his face, tears looking just about ready to bubble in his eyes.  
Blues sighed, placing a palm over his face. He hated it when Rock did that. He also hated the fact that he accidentally made him feel bad, just like always.

Blues hated staying in this old lab filled with so many of his negative memories, not to mention he just wanted to go and defeat that monster on his own. If he got Rock involved, he might die, or worse against this thing. Blues had a plan, but he knew that neither of his siblings nor his father would like it, even openly try to keep him from doing it. Blues couldn’t let that happen He needed to end this.

“Listen, Rock-”

His sentence was cut off by the muffled noise of two teleport signals, then someone knocking on the window. Rock peered over to look at the pane, then jumped back with a squeak.

“What? Who is it?” Blues asked, trying to pull his upper body over far enough to see outside the window. His view remained blocked and he let out a frustrated huff, trying to move even further. His brother caught him before he fell, and simply pointed.

“Forte is here. With Gospel,” Rock said, gently pushing Blues back into bed, glancing at him for confirmation that it was okay to touch. Blues nodded with a begrudging sigh, pulling himself backwards to make it easier for the other. He hated being useless. He hated being immobile. It always filled him with this nervous itch, and this time was no different, the effect even magnified by the circumstances.

“Why the hell is Forte here?” He asked, raising his voice to be heard over a more insistent knocking. Rock shrugged, before moving to unlatch the window and pull it open.

“I guess we just have to let him tell us why.”


End file.
